Thursday, June 28, 2012

Boo Radley, for those of you who don't know him, is not a normal cat. I'm pretty sure he is intellectually disabled (which, of course, does not make me love him any less) and he doesn't act much like a cat at all. He spent his kittenhood half in/half out of Scout's mouth, constantly covered in dog slobber and looking for any crumbs of food that might have fallen to the ground. He doesn't groom himself regularly and often smells vaguely like the litter box. Boo's most un-cat-like attribute is that you can do absolutely anything to him and get no reaction, except for maybe a loud purr.

So when he jumped up on the kitchen counter to finish D's leftovers, right next to me and a pair of scissors that someone had neglected to put away, the first thing I saw was opportunity. There was my fat cat with dreads around the base of his tail completely distracted by food - time for an impromptu hair cut.

There I was just chop, chop, chopping away, and most of the little mats were gone, but then I got ambitious. Boo may have short hair, but it's super thick and since he was ignoring me completely (very focused on finishing every last speck of food), I decided it was a great idea to just cut off as much fur as possible. All of it even, if he'd sit there long enough. It's certainly hot enough now for him to run around without any fur on.

Even as I made that decision, it happened. Overconfident and under cautious, whipping those scissors around like I thought I was Edward Scissorhands beautifying all the neighborhood pets or something, I got too close and I cut him. Yep, I cut him, with scissors, and.... nothing. No reaction at all. No noise. Didn't even stop eating.

I knew, logically, that he must be fine. If he wasn't fine, he would have reacted in some way. I mean, dang, you step on a cat's tail and they make a noise like their world is shattering around them and Boo hadn't even flinched. I, on the other hand, was trying to swallow a big ol' ball of panic and make myself asses the damage I had caused. I've never accidentally (or on purpose for that matter) cut a cat before.

After looking at it, and seeing that it really wasn't that bad (not large, not bleeding, just a little pink looking), I ran for my bottle of Magic Spray (also known as Vetericyn Wound Spray*) and gave him a spritz. Then I ran off to my husband and had a little panic attack about it. (Husband: "But he's alright? It's not even bleeding? Calm down then, he's fine." Me: "But no! You don't understand! I CUT OUR CAT WITH SCISSORS!)

Needless to say, I gave up on the haircut that day, and now Boo has an asymmetrical, rather large, and unfortunate looking mess of a bald spot going on. Good thing he's not one of those vain cats.

A few days later, I was off hanging out at the Polo Villa with Tucker and Nicole. Tucker has a couple of beautiful boys of his own so it's not unusual for us to slip into cat talk (started this time by me having another round of freaking out because I'd cut Boo with scissors.) The talk eventually rolled around to the FURminator, which I mistakenly thought was something like this (and, although I've never used one, I think is pretty ridiculous looking and probably ineffective). What the FURminator actually is, however, is amazing**.

Tucker gave me a little demonstration on Dimitri and then let me borrow it. I was eager to try it out on Mona, whose long, fine, and sticky hair is notorious for mats, but when I got home with the brush and ran it through her fur I was unimpressed. It had seemed to work so well on Dimitri's short fur, but on Mona's it was no better than a regular brush. Then I tried it on Boo.

That brush removed so much hair, it was like we had a small orange mountain next to us. Not only that, but the couple little dreads I had missed on disastrous scissor-cutting-day came right out without hardly a pull. Since I like to learn things, I got on the internet and read about the different kind of brushes FURminator has to offer for different coat types and decided I need to get my fingers on the long haired version to try out on Mona and Damien. For Bob, my little old man with mouth ulcers who has problems grooming himself, this brush is the best thing ever, he looks much more handsome after just a couple run-throughs.

And just in case you're worried, Boo is fine, and in the forever long amount of time it took me to write this post his cut has healed up. And the FURminator? Both the long and short hair versions are going at the top of my Christmas list.

*Get some for your pet first aid kit, it's incredible! There is an "over-the-counter" version and a stronger version you can ask your vet for. http://vetericyn.com/
** The folks at FURminator gave me nothing for the praise of their product, although it'd be great if they wanted to! (Same thing for Vetericyn!)

Thursday, June 7, 2012

It's been a minute since I've put up a new post, so, to liven things up over here, I'm going to tell you one of my favorite cat stories.

Perfect Teamwork

Once upon a time, while my husband and I were sitting on the couch watching cartoons on the laptop, I noticed that there were no cats in our general vicinity. This is not normal in my house. Usually you can see at least four without turning your head and five to six if you use your peripherals. Slightly concerned, I leaned forward to look for them.

I didn't have to look far. At the end of the hallway, right before the kitchen, I saw them. Six cats just sitting in a circle. "Ah, the cats are having a meeting." I thought, turning back to the computer as if that were completely logical.

A moment later it dawned on me that no matter how many human tendencies I like to attribute to my cats, it was highly unlikely that they could schedule and attend a meeting. Not only that, but why would they arrange a six cat meeting? Wouldn't it be better to invite the whole household? (Unless of course, the meeting was aboutBob and Lola, then it would make complete sense for them to not be invited.) In any case, it seemed prudent to get up and see what 3/4 of my cat population found so interesting.

None of them paid me any attention as I got off the couch and made my short journey down the hall. As I approached the circle, I saw Harry reach out to the middle of it, claw extended, to stab one of these guys:

A house centipede. Disgusting. Harry got himself a good stab in, then D had his opportunity, then little Miss Mona took her shot, all dainty like, and all the while the little thing was running like crazy in the circle, trying to escape.

Yes, indeed. My cats were very politely going around the circle, taking turns torturing and killing the nasty little guy, one stab at a time. I don't know that any mother has ever been more proud while watching her children share.